Roughhousing
by hongkongstar
Summary: Kink Meme fic. Prompt: SetzerRoxas, Struggle Bat. Noncon.


Roxas wakes suddenly in the night, chest heaving as he gasps, eyes wide and straining against the dark of his room to find what woke him. There is nothing, he realises, but as he tries to move, he finds his arms tied tight to the headboard of his bed. A shape moves in the dark, a shadow in the shape of a man coming to stand beside him.

"You woke sooner than I'd expected," he says, voice warm like alcohol.

"Setzer," Roxas hisses out, hands clenched into fists around the ropes binding them. "What are you doing?"

Setzer grins, sharp and bright in the dark. "You remember my name," he says. "How wonderful." His hand rubs across Roxas' chest, pressing it back down into the bed where he had strained it up, fighting the ropes. Roxas realises, now, he is completely naked.

"What," he says, eyes wide. "What are you _doing_?"

Setzer's hand smoothes down his stomach, fondles his limp cock and strokes at his thighs. Roxas kicks out, but Setzer catches his ankles and presses them back down to the bed, spread farther apart. He hums lightly, eyes trailing up Roxas' body, making his skin tingle. He's broken out in a slight sweat, and his hands are beginning to turn an angry shade of red from pulling against the ropes. "You and your friends were so very pleased with your winning of the tournament," he says, smiles wicked again. "I'm here to show you that your mastery of _struggle _ is not as complete as you may think."

His hands are quick and skilled; he has Roxas' legs tied down tight in a matter of moments. Then he disappears into the shadows again, still humming. Roxas strains his head up, trying to see where he's gone.

"Patience, patience," he says, returning, smoothing his hand over Roxas' thigh again, thumb pressing into the muscle, hard and tensed. Roxas lets his head drop back onto the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing this was just another fucked up dream. Setzer's hand drifts lower, behind his cock, and then something wet and cold dribbles down over his cock and trickles lower. He hisses between his teeth, thighs tensed and tight again, and Setzer's finger rubs against his arsehole and slides inside.

"Ah," he chokes out, body squirming, but Setzer is unrelenting, pressing another finger in roughly and scissoring them against hard inner flesh.

"You _will _ have to relax," he says. "This will hurt a lot more if you don't."

His fingers twist in deeper; curving at Roxas' insides until they hit something that sends streaks of white fire up his spine and belly, cock jerking violently against his thigh. "Ah," he says again, unconsciously rolling his hips up into the stimulation. Setzer hums again, and a third finger pushes in, pushing and pushing and pushing. He finds that bundle of nerves again, nudging against it over and over until Roxas is half hard, panting and writhing, hips twitching erratically.

"That's better," Setzer says, as Roxas gasps out a continuous stream of "stop stop stop stop."

And then, Setzer does, his fingers sliding out suddenly and leaving Roxas feeling strangely lacking, hips still arching up, cock seeking stimulation in the empty air.

He opens his eyes then, and Setzer is ready for him, smiling and holding a struggle bat out for him to see.

"Recognise this?" he asks.

Roxas' eyes widen; his breath comes harder, trapped and choking in his chest. "No," he says. "No you can't, you _can't_."

Setzer just smiles wider, pouring lube over the top of the bat in clear rivulets, dropping the bottle somewhere and smoothing the fluid over it with practiced strokes until it shines in the dim light from outside. Roxas' legs ache, muscles screaming from where he tries to fight the ropes and bring them closer together. The ropes dig into his ankles and burn, bones hurting as he pushes them further into a shape they're not meant to be in.

"Calm down," Setzer says, hand smoothing over Roxas' thigh in gentle pressure; Roxas ignores it. He can already feel the hard end of the struggle bat pressing up against him, nudging at his entrance. It's too big; it won't fit. He'll split and bleed and it'll _hurt_.

The struggle bat twists, pushing in further, burning against sensitive flesh as Setzer forces it in slightly. Roxas tenses his body down against it, clenching as it tries to push in, teeth gritted, snarling at the man above him.

But then Setzer's hand wraps around his neglected, half wilted cock, tugging smoothly, and Roxas' body unwinds abruptly, arching, and the bat pushes in, forcing him wide open.

His mouth falls open, eyes closing as it stretches his body, nerves skittering at the impossible _fullness_, gasping as Setzer twists it further, further in. His muscles clench in spasms, sending electric fire across his skin. He moans, head arching back, cock throbbing, fully hard and dripping fluid, slipping and catching as he thrusts up into the loose hold of Setzer's hand. Setzer slides the bat out slightly, before pushing it back in, hard, forcing a harsh groan out of Roxas' throat.

And then, he steps back into the shadows, leaving Roxas alone, panting and squirming.

"What," he starts, but it catches in his throat as his hips flex again, shifting the bat lodged inside him, pressing against over-sensitised flesh and that spot of white-hot pleasure. He thrusts up into the air again, cock straining and jerking as he pushes back against the thick hardness shoved up his arse. His hips roll uncontrolled, fucking himself back on the bat as much as he can, body writhing and squirming as his muscles clench down around it and tight pleasure starts to lace itself through his skin, digging in closer and sharper with each useless thrust of his cock up into the empty air.

He can't see Setzer, can't hear him over the thick sounds of his own pleasure, but he can feel him there, still in the room, watching as he moans and gasps and _wants_.

His skin feels too tight, sweat dripping wet as he writhes. The air prickles chilled across his body, and he arches his back against the ropes, fingers digging into the headboard for some sort of purchase, changing the angle of the bat inside him and hips pushing back back _back_. He comes, hard and sudden, cock jerking, shooting long, thick pulses of spunk across his chest and belly, again and again as his muscles tighten down on the bat lodged inside him. His vision flares out to incandescent white around the edges, muscles aching and loose as he collapses back on to the bed, languid and worn.

He doesn't even stir as Setzer returns, undoing the ropes tied around his limbs. He makes small noises in the back of his throat as Setzer gently works the struggle bat free of his body, but otherwise just watches with half-lidded eyes.

And then Setzer disappears, the window swinging open, cool night air pouring in and around Roxas' overheated skin. He leans up on his elbows to check, but Setzer really is gone, curtains drifting out lazily as a breeze gently curls in.

"Over dramatic _dick_," Roxas mutters, before slumping back and giving up and letting sleep take him.


End file.
